Hello,this Is My Account! There Are My Writings!But This Account's Post Which I Share Now,is Not Gonna

Come true//

I tell you I hate the indoors

And you cage me in a room

I say I crave the sky

But you only let me out at night

I tell you how much I hate rituals

And you tell me to follow each by heart

I don't like conventional

Yet you are anything but radical

Each thing you do

Is either dictated

Preplanned or decided for you

My free will dies, eachtime I look at you

I try to walk paths I think will run parallel to yours

We never intersect and somehow that never bothered you

I tell you I don't believe in destinies

Yet we are destined to be doomed

I thought I could fight depression

But the biggest weight holding me from living is you

I say I would like to add flowers to the garden

You say you're out of time

So precious time that only counts for you

None for my pursuits

I can only breath borrowed air

I can only wear forgotten bruises

You say you love me

I don't think it is true

Love doesn't mean to be conformed

To your likings

It doesn't mean to put everyone else's happiness except ourselves

It doesn't mean nothing changes in your life

And I have to sacrifice

Everything till my time is due

In this lie of love I wait

Patiently for my reel to end

Make the final appearance

Let the curtains fall

Once and for all

And this pretend play

Ends at a high note

They will say

Oh they loved eachother so

It's true

But that's a thing about

Pathological liars

They make you believe

In happy endings

That never came true

“Passion changes it, the depth and timbre of voice, the sound of your name.”

— Haiku on Life by Tyler Knott Gregson

Lost bird.

In her eyes i see million graveyards,

i see her in chains,her body is like caged,

in her world i was fighting alone,

the air smells like death,her eyes were green

like the poison that destroys,

she's a prisoner in her own mind,

she's trapped inside,she craved

for more wars-more desire,

her legs were moving themselves

like it wasn't her controling herself.

she was lost and in need to kill,

everyone was leaving her side,

that's why she became a weapon,

that's why her green shiny eyes cried,

but outside she was a death machine

for troubles and no one wanted to see,

that sadness made her dangerous to use,

the pain was never gone,she never lose..

....somewhere in the lost place of her own

the wind was blowing everything up,

and after the fog that scared million souls,

she was there,sitting on the edge,in a throne,

her scary existence was rare,staring on the center,

this creature had no idea what was hope to wear.

her world was falling apart,her love was taken,

she was drown inside with chains locked

deeper than ocean, malicious like a sin

empty as the void,she was keeper,

she was a reaper,sending souls' death away

i had to fight against her silent sadness,

i had to wash it all away and make her believe

that she was the loved one,she was needed to be free.

-t.f.s.

[Inspired by the anime Black rock shooter]

Omg yus

A,

I was walking in the hallway with a friend of mine, he used the be verb “a” and the word “love” in that particular order. I protested. And said, love is not “a”. It’s not a single thing, it’s not even a thing!  It’s an explosion of feelings, unending questions and a rush of everything in split seconds. I told him, and he retorted saying I am a linguist.  But no, it wasn’t about words, it was about feeling every sensation. But you know what is the best explanation of love? It is YOU. Your love is the heat of the Sun on my skin, the rust of coldness when you eat Ice Cream; the explosion of excitement when you jump off a cliff. You yourself is love.

- 1919

"Colorful life".

I have chased after the moon

Thinking it will fall in love with me too

But everyone loved it so much that it climbed the sky more high

Proud of being in the spotlight

He asked me, "what will you do to be mine?"

I said, " anything that your heart desires."

Then he told me to climb the highest level and jump

I climbed his ego and died in the arms of a liar.

- s.h

you are not a machine. you are more like a garden. you need different things on different days. a little sun today, a little less water tomorrow. you have fallow and fruitful seasons. it is not a design flaw. it is wiser than perpetual sameness. what does your garden need today?

Сенрю 2

Заровени очи

в кутия без мисли

времето спи .

-t.f.s.

(For a friend who deactivated).

Don't pull off your skin,

It's not late to go and sleep.

Your eyes seem crushed,tired;

I don't want them to break me.

Don't go and dance alone

your ghost is chasing you home.

Pick your body up with middle finger out,

don't close the curtains, don't fall out.

When I listen to you my throat aches,

my fingers bleed, too cold to take;

Where's your home now?

What time is your NOW?

Open the door ,

wishing to see you

but your body is unstable.

Where are you?

Don't lose your soul!

Take another day, lay on!

-t.f.s.

Me facing my problems